


Intergalactic Booty Call

by MayRaven1798



Series: Disco Crack [2]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Elicit call, F/M, Kindred Spirits, Lingerie, Loneliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:15:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayRaven1798/pseuds/MayRaven1798
Summary: This is an impulse story. Another one shot. Takes place sometime close to the end of Season Three of Discovery. Minor spoilers, but not really. Tilly gets an incoming call from someone unexpected.
Relationships: Lore & Sylvia Tilly, Lore/Sylvia Tilly
Series: Disco Crack [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083119
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	Intergalactic Booty Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Galaxsphere347](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxsphere347/gifts).



> This story is more crack. I hope it cheers up fellow writer Galaxsphere347. Enjoy!  
> (Yeah...this is a series now?)

Sylvia Tilly is now a bonafide Number One...well an acting first officer, anyhow. She walks through the ship with her chin held high and hopes that she doesn’t look snooty. ‘Cause she is no snob, but she is feeling such a high that every part of her is lighter than air and she can’t even pretend to be reserved right now.

Of course even with all the accolades of her friends and peers, she still technically holds the rank of ensign and shares her quarters with Michael. That is when Michael is around. Lately she’s been bunking with Booker. Which is fine. They see each other all the time. 

That is where she is when she gets HIS call—in the solitude of her quarters. 

Her heart flutters as the computer notifies her of an incoming communication. She isn’t expecting anyone to contact her, so it must be Saru...or one of her friends. But then the computer informs her that it’s coming from an encrypted outside channel. 

She hesitates, wary that someone could be playing a trick, or worse, using her to access Discovery’s internal systems and attack it with a virus or something. She flops onto her bed, still unmade from this morning, and blows out a contemplative raspberry. 

“Um, computer who is it? Did they give you an identifier?” she asks into the air.

The computer chirps before responding, “Affirmative. Incoming message is from ‘Golden Boy’.”

Tilly sits up at attention. “That’s not possible,” she mutters to herself. 

“Would you like to accept the incoming communication, Ensign Tilly?” inquires the female computer, one last time. 

She knows she should say no. It would be crazy if he tracked her down and even crazier to actually speak to him. She looks over at Michael’s empty, pristine bunk and groans. Damn it she is lonely right now. Curiosity gets the better of her and she accepts the call.

“Put it through, computer,” she commands.

A holographic projection of the golden skinned stranger from a few months back suddenly stands in the middle of her small cabin.

“Wow, took you long enough,” he snarks as he looks down at her with a smug air of superiority.

“What do you want?” she says rather flatly. How could she forget how weird this guy is?

“What can I say? I missed you, Red. Took a while to find you though,” he says with a flirty smile.

“Here I am,” she says, his revelation failing to move her. 

“Yes you are,” he adds cocking one eyebrow. 

Tilly feels pinned by his holographic stare. She is sure that he is undressing her with his eyes. She picks up a pillow and reflexively throws it through him. “Stop that!” she yells as she crosses her arms over her breasts.

“So feisty, just like I remember,” he chuckles at her antics. Then he steps closer, which is odd since he is only a projection. He can’t physically touch her. “See, I can’t stop thinking about that tussle we had in the alley. I want to see you again.”

“You’re seeing me right now,” she scoffs as she inches away from him.

“Sylvia...You know I want to see you in person. Unless you go for that sort of thing? But judging by how much you’re recoiling, I’d say you like to get more familiar before you drop your drawers.”

Tilly’s eyes go wide. Then she swears under her breath, “Fuck.”

“That’s the idea,” he hums. Her blue eyes jump and lock on his yellow ones. 

“So you hunted me down for an intergalactic booty call?”

The image laughs a deep, hearty, chest rumbling laugh. Either he is mocking her again, or he’s been in isolation for so long that he is bound to find anything funny.

“I haven’t heard the phrase ‘booty call’ in ages,” he says with a happy sigh. “Yeah, Red. I want you. Bad. But not like this. In person is better. Comms are so cold and impersonal...although if you were up for it I could replay the bounty of your naked body over and over to sustain me until that can happen.”

Tilly’s face turns redder than her hair. Not because she’s feeling shame or embarrassment, but because she is so angry she could murder someone. “You have a lot of nerve. Tracking me down, calling me up, propositioning me! Well, shit, I don’t even know your name and you want me to drop everything and come meet you somewhere seedy for a casual screw? Fuck you, you psycho!”

The image fuzzes and refocuses. The man is looking down now, his hands fold in front of him. With the dark cloak draping his shoulders he almost looks like a spiritualist bowing his head to pray.

“You’re right,” he says with a measure of humility. “I got lost in the game and forgot to consider your feelings.”

Tilly quirks her head to one side and regards him like a curiosity. “Why should I believe you?”

“You shouldn’t,” he says bluntly. “But...if it helps...My name is Lore. I’m super fucking old and incredibly lonely. I know I come on strong, but I don’t meet many fiery goddesses worthy of my interest.”

He pauses and waits for her to react. Tilly doesn’t feel all that exceptional in that moment, acting first officer aside. She is wondering what this Lore character would do if he had met Georgiou instead of her. Then she thinks about the ancient sphere and wonders if it might be a better match for Lore. 

“Wait...how old are you?” she asks as her mind reconsiders the idea of the sphere.

He looks uncomfortable for a moment, but then he meets her eyes. “Centuries,” he confesses.

“How is that possible?”

“Let’s just say I survived the synth wars,” he says vaguely.

“I knew it!” she yells in triumph. She has no idea what the synth wars are but knows that they also jumped over the temporal wars, so whatever. “An engineer always knows tech when she sees it!”

Lore slowly claps for her. “Congrats...you’re almost as smart as I thought you were,” he says, dripping with sarcasm.

Tilly quiets again and kneels on her mattress. “Look, Lore. I honestly can’t get away...like ever. So this,” she says pointing back and forth between them, “can’t happen.”

He nods and sighs, unhappily this time. “Yeah...I know, but I had to try. You are one of a kind...same as me.”

His sincerity feels real and so does his disappointment. She wants to do something, anything to cheer him up. So she slowly undoes the clasp of her collar and before she can change her mind, she removes her outer uniform shirt and lets it fall to the floor. She definitely has his attention. His eyes are watching her intently. 

“How’s this...you know, to tide you over?” she purrs. Then she lifts her dark navy undershirt and give him a quick peep show of her breasts in a pink lacy bra. 

If she didn’t know better she would swear he is blushing. “Beautiful,” he breathes. 

This makes her blush as well. She was expecting him to say something rude, not something sweet. 

“What I would give to suck on your big beautiful boobs right now,” he adds while biting hard on his lower lip.

And the moment is over. Tilly pulls her shirt back on and gives him the finger. “You just had to ruin it,” she groans with annoyance.

“Come, on,” he rebuts full of lust. “I know you want me too. The things I can make you feel.”

“Okay...that’s enough. Goodbye, Lore,” she says rather abruptly. 

His face crumples like a balled up piece of paper, full of rejection and agitation. Then he’s gone and the room is quiet.

“What is it with that fucking guy?” she huffs as she falls back onto the mattress. 

She still has a few minutes before dinner starts in the mess. So she decides to shimmy out of her pants and masterbate for a while; no use wasting the fuel of Lore’s leering gaze and dirty tongue. As a woman of substance she respects herself completely; but as a woman of leisure she does enjoy a bad boy. 

......


End file.
